


It was a Dark and Spooky Night

by Lance_Manly_Sorcerer_Of_Sin



Series: Nezhara the Witch [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Werewolf, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves in Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17943959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lance_Manly_Sorcerer_Of_Sin/pseuds/Lance_Manly_Sorcerer_Of_Sin
Summary: Nezhara, a talented witch living on the outskirts of a small village, goes searching for special ingredients in the forest at night.  She finds considerably more than she bargained for, but Nezhara always was good at improvising.





	It was a Dark and Spooky Night

**Author's Note:**

> This fic starts out very lightly dubcon, but quickly becomes consensual.

It was a dark and spooky night. Bitter winds howled through the branches of trees, which creaked and groaned in protest. Down below, at the outskirts of a bustling little town, a lonely shack sat surrounded by trees. Eerie lights glowed from its windows as smoke and exotic smells spilled outside, wafting over the rich soils and babbling brook nearby. Inside, a fearsome witch was concocting her magic.

Nezhara hummed to herself as she busied her hands with mixing ingredients into the large, black cauldron in the center of her shop. It was bubbling and broiling with a bright green goop that reflected off her spectacles, and a thick pleasant aroma not unlike pineapples filled the room before wafting outside. Nezhara reached up, adjusting the wide-brimmed hat on her head and wiping a bit of sweat from her brow before returning to her book. The tome was spread out on a wide table filled with vials of liquid, satchels of powders, jars of pickled reagents, and sometimes just jars of pickles. Nezhara unscrewed one of the pickle jars and began to munch on one, humming to herself as she poured over the ancient tome.

"Hm, fresh amanita. 'Must not be pickled, lest the recipe become too potent.' Wonder what that means?" The witch looked around her table and, to her disappointment, found that she indeed had only pickled amanita. So after screwing back on the lid of her beloved pickle jar and turning the flames down to the 'barely' setting, Nezhara threw a fur-lined cloak across her shoulders and bustled outside. She knew of many mushrooms in the forest nearby, and thought perhaps she might find some amanita on her own and needn't bother going into town in the morning to buy some. The little witch was quite confident in her ability, and smirked as she thought about what a big hit her new love potion was going to be in town.

The forest was darker than she remembered. As the moon was slowly blocked out by the branches of the canopies, multicolored leaves fluttering to the ground as they fell from the treetops, Nezhara was having a little trouble finding her way. She pulled out a small scroll, murmuring hushed words in a forgotten language. From the scroll came an orb of soft blue light, which rose into the air and hung above her head to brighten the way. She looked up at it, then around at her now-lit surroundings, and then back to the scroll. The parchment had been wiped clean, no longer inscribed with anything but the memories of the spell that had been there. She tucked the now-blank scroll back into her robes and hurried on, eager to be done with this chore.

Picking her way through the brush of a particularly-nasty bit of woods, Nezhara stumbled upon a small pond full of lily pads and the croaking of frogs. She grew closer, her light scaring away the amphibians, and spotted a patch of mushrooms growing amongst the damp earth. With a hiss, she realized they were not amanita, but simply russula. A figure moving in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she whipped around with wand raised. There was a satyr, holding a harp in one hand and a small mushroom in the other. He raised a single bushy eyebrow and clopped closer.

"Looking for summat, dear little human?" he snickered in a gravelly voice. Nezhara lowered her wand, but her eyes caught the fungi in his grasp. Her face lit up.

"Is that amanita? I need some for a recipe!" The satyr's lips spread into a smug grin, and Nezhara mentally kicked herself for letting something slip like that. A member of the Fae, satyrs were notorious for 'bargaining' with humans, a prospect that never ended fairly.

"Well o' course I'll help ye, lass. See's fair that I know where t' find ye little mushrooms, sure enough. But I got a wee little problem meself, see..." Nezhara drew back a touch, glaring at the man-beast as he gestured down to his crotch. To her disgust, she saw his thick member slowly hardening as it hung all the way down to his knees. Which wasn't very far for a satyr, but was nonetheless impressive. Nezhara stared daggers at the man's cock, like by simply existing it had caused all the pain and misery in the world.

"I have nae known the touch of a woman for some time, lass. And yer such a young, beautiful woman at that," he said with a cock-sure grin, showing off his fangs. Nezhara felt her eye twitch as she glared at the beastman. She sneered in disgust and turned to face the other way.

"I'll do no such thing. Begone, disgusting little creature."

"Little? I'm as tall as ye are, and me cock's half the length of yer legs, lass." The satyr chortled to himself and strummed his harp, as if just to annoy the witch even further. Nezhara offered him no response, except grabbing her wand and pointing it at him again. The satyr sneered and trotted off, playing his harp and singing a little tune about young girls who need a good dick once and awhile. The witch spat on the ground and pouted, looking around for a moment. Perhaps if she followed the satyr, she'd find his mushroom patch? But the sorcerer's light would give her away, and she couldn't recast the spell if she did decide to extinguish it. With a deep sigh and squeezed fists, Nezhara set off through the forest once again and left the frogs and their lily pads in peace.

It was nearly half an hour later and the little witch was getting desperate. She knew that if her exploration continued any longer, her light would run out before she made it back home. Despair, that old friend, was beginning to creep into her heart.  
"Perhaps I should return home," she thought, before a noise in the trees made her jump. Quick on the draw as usual, the girl threatened every leaf and tree with her wand, but could not find the source of the noise. Her light was growing dim as well, so she hurried back the way she came. The witch knew she could return in the morning, and find the mushrooms no problem.

But there was a problem.

Nezhara's eyes darted around and, with a sinking heart, she realized she was lost. The witch started to flit about here and there, looking for familiar trees or markings she could use to find her way back. But with her light growing dimmer, it was too hard to make her way back. Her heart nearly stopped at the sound of branches breaking overhead. Nezhara shrieked and began to run, picking her way over bushes and gnarled roots, wand held aloft and ready. With a gasp, she tripped over something and landed face-first on the ground. Nezhara began hissing curses under her breath, looking back to see what she'd tripped over. A large stone, nestled deep inside a patch of amanita.

She had to resist the urge to shout with victory. The witch looked around, eyes scanning the treetops as she held her breath. There was nothing, no sounds and no suspicious shadows. So, she began to hurriedly scoop the amanita into a bag, tying it up for later. Nezhara jumped to her feet and smiled, heading back off through the trees to find her way back home. As the young witch turned a corner around a particularly large tree, her heart nearly stopped. Standing before her, with a large paw on the tree's trunk, and staring down at her with a hungry gaze, was a werewolf.

Hell's Bells.

Nezhara raised her wand in a panic, but the beast was too fast. A muscular paw slapped it out of her hand and caught her by the wrist, and the monster was upon her so suddenly that he knocked her off her feet. The witch let out a cry as the other paw swept under her back, picking her up and slamming her down against the soft dirt. She grunted and put both hands against the werewolf's chest, trying desperately to push him off so she could reach the pouch of silver dust in her robes. But his chest was too solid and heavy and... muscular. Nezhara felt the hot breath of the predator graze her face, and she winced, expecting the jaws any moment now.

Instead, what she felt was a big, slobbery tongue lick upside her cheek. 

"Guh! What in the hells are you doing, you big mutt?"

The werewolf looked down at her quizically, two big puppy-dog eyes meeting hers. As the fear slowly passed, Nezhara sighed and slapped a hand to her forehead.

"That's right, I forgot you werewolves are basically big dumb puppies." She grunted and tried to stand up, but the creature was simply too heavy on top of her. Its muscles rippled beneath the jet-black fur as it held her down, snout sniffling wildly against her body. Nezhara began to blush as the beast's nosy snout brushed up against her chest and started pushing aside the robes. She yelped and tried to keep the curious snout away from there, but the creature basically ignored everything she did as it was simply too strong. The witch felt a cold nose against her skin, and began to panic as it sunk lower and lower until her robes fell open to reveal her choice of undergarments: None.

"Get outta here you big mutt, I'm busy!"

But the witch's indignant shouting quickly became embarrassed yelping as the werewolf wrapped its paws around her thighs, hoisting them up into the air. Nezhara reached down to cover herself, her face lighting up bright-red as the werewolf's curious nose found the source of the scent it had been searching for. It took big, deep breaths of her sex, its nose pushing aside her hands with little to no effort in order to get a good look at it. Nezhara was shouting curses and hexes at the werewolf, of course to no effect without a scroll or a wand. But her face suddenly gave way to a much lewder, panting expression as the werewolf let its impressively-long, hot tongue slide across her sensitive little pussy.

"W-what the hell are you..." Nezhara's thoughts went to the satyr from earlier, who'd mentioned how long it had been since he'd gotten laid. She silently admitted she was very familiar with that need, and shut her eyes tight. Maybe if she pretended it was that handsome young man from the village, and not a big scary monster? The sensations of the thick, hot tongue against her petals were getting stronger, and the werewolf (hot young man, she tried reminding herself) was getting less curious and more hungry. His tongue snaked along her pouty lower lips, finding the spot that made her tremble the most and focusing on that. Now familiar with her scent and taste, the werewolf lowered his paws to grip the witch's cute little butt and held on tight, holding her lower half aloft with minimal effort and making Nezhara feel a bit like a toy in the hands of a strong man.

Nezhara raised a hand to her mouth and covered it, too embarrassed to let her voice be heard as she bit down on one finger. The werewolf's tongue was beginning to slip inside of her, and soon it buried itself inches deep and brushed against her g-spot. Nezhara was barely able to keep her voice down as the first few moans slipped through, unable to stop her hips from bucking as the werewolf fucked her with his thick, wet tongue. Gods, if anybody caught her right now... the thought kind-of turned her on.

'Hell's bells, am I that much of a freak?' she wondered with a blush, but soon all coherent thoughts were being replaced with intense sensations. The smell of sex filled the night air as her pussy soaked itself, juices mixing with saliva as the werewolf hungrily drank in her taste and smell. Without thinking, the witch's other hand reached up and placed itself onto the werewolf's muscular arm, and she cooed as she felt just how thick and powerful he was. Hands trembling, Nezhara cried out with ecstasy as she came, both hands gripping a furry arm to hold on for dear life as her whole body began to quiver. The werewolf tongue-fucked her through the orgasm, the sensations becoming hotter and stronger with each passing second until, when she finally couldn't take it anymore, the beast slowly lowered her to the ground.

"Thank the gods," is what Nezhara would have said, if she wasn't so busy trying to desperately catch her breath. She finally opened her eyes, gaze trailing down from the werewolf's cute, expectant face to its thick, muscular body. And then to the large, dripping erection pointing directly at her. She gulped, eyes wide and jaw trembling, as the thick red member twitched in anticipation.

"I-I suppose that makes you a boy, then," she uttered, her voice cracking slightly. 

Nezhara was panting like a whore as the werewolf fucked her from behind, pounding the poor witch into the dirt as his massive cock reached deeper inside her than she thought possible. The witch was grasping onto anything she could hold, ripping up grass and dirt as the cock inside her fucked her into a second orgasm. She felt the pleasure rip through her whole body like a warm, sensual lightning bolt, and the werewolf didn't give her a chance to rest as his speed only increased. He was fucking her like an animal, his thick member slamming as deep as possible inside her with each thrust. Every slam of his muscular hips against her sent her ass jiggling, so deep and hard were his thrusts. And Nezhara, poor Nezhara, could only hold on for dear life as he fucked her through the entire orgasm, every inch of his fat cock driving her into pleasure she'd never experienced before.

It was so fast, so hard, so intense. The beast was fucking her so deep that every thrust slammed his heavy, full balls against her clit, exhilarating her even further as his thick meat pounded her g-spot over and over again. The little witch reached up with one hand and desperately held on to her hat, to no avail as the werewolf pushed it off with his snout as he came in to hang his face just inches from hers. She looked up, watching the beast's tongue hanging out of its mouth and drooling saliva onto the ground as it fucked her like an animal. Her pussy was given no time to rest as every thrust drove the massive cock deep inside of her, every inch of her filled with hot pleasure. Her thoughts drifted off to the town, and some of the men she fancied, and how none of them could ever fuck her like this even in her wildest fantasies.

She cried out for more, her voice hoarse and dry after so much moaning. The young witch reached up with one hand, placing it on the werewolf's head and half-holding on, half-petting him to encourage his efforts. The creature leaned down just a bit further, and she felt the warm fur of his neck against her forehead. She could feel the thick muscles of his hips every time they slapped against her ass, each thrust rocking he whole body and making it impossible to concentrate. She'd long-since forgotten her plan to subdue the creature, instead giving in to the carnal pleasures of its fat cock. The werewolf began to tremble, which she could feel against the entirety of her back. With his hot breaths becoming heavier and more rapid, she felt something thick swell against her ass as it pounded away at her.

It was a rush, feeling how desperately the werewolf tried to knot her. The thick base of his cock struggled against her tight little pussy, pushing further and further until it became too much. The werewolf whimpered as his knot couldn't fit inside her, thrusting so hard that his cock was practically lifting her ass into the air, bouncing the witch's body up and down his dick like a sex-toy. Nezhara couldn't even speak, her mouth hanging open and tongue lolling out as the pleasure overwhelmed her, a third orgasm rocking her little body as the werewolf fucked her into heaven. Finally, the tight pussy gave way and his knot pushed inside of her, and the werewolf's howls mixed in the night sky with her hoarse screams of ecstasy as they came together.

Nezhara was panting hard as the feeling of hot, creamy fullness didn't go away. The werewolf's knot was keeping it all inside her, keeping her young pussy full of his cum as his twitching cock slowly teased her with every little pulse. She sighed, the desperate pleasure finally ebbing away as her breath slowed. It was going to be a long, long night if she was going to wait to become unstuck from this beast. The witch felt the werewolf slowly envelop her with its warm, furry body, and sighed. Though lovely, the after-sex cuddling was ultimately getting in the way of her potion-making. She reached over into her discarded robes and drew a small bag out, blasting the werewolf in the face with it without a second thought.

With a panicked howl, the werewolf began to shine and glow, his body shrinking as it shed rapidly-evaporating fur across the air. Nezhara gasped as the shrinking cock inside her suddenly pulled out, ounces of hot cum spilling out of her and onto the dirt. What a waste, she thought, cursing herself for not bringing some spare vials. The witch slowly sat up, dripping cum and sweat everywhere, and looked at the now-human man lying on the ground. She recognized him from the town, but he certainly wasn't on her list... until tonight. With a smirk, Nezhara climbed onto the man's chest and twirled a finger in his beard, not letting him catch his breath as she grinned down at him.

"Good morning, new assistant."


End file.
